hair and small moustache very dark; the brown eyes inexpressive and
close-set, revealing a tendency to suspiciousness--Bancroft prided
himself on his prudence. A certain smartness of dress and a conscious
carriage discovered a vanity which, in an older man, would have been
fatuous. A large or a sensitive nature would in youth, at least, have
sought unconsciously to bring itself into sympathy with strange
surroundings, but Bancroft looked upon those who differed from him in
manners or conduct as inferior, and this presumption in regard to the
Conklins was strengthened by his superiority in book-learning, the
importance of which he had been trained to over-estimate.

During their drive Miss Conklin made her companion talk of Eastern life;
she wanted to know what Chicago was like, and what people did in New
York. Stirred by her eager curiosity, Bancroft sketched both cities in
hasty outline, and proceeded to tell what he had read and heard of
Paris, and Rome, and London. But evidently the girl was not interested
by his praise of the art-life of European capitals or their historical
associations; she cut short his disquisition:

"See here! When I first seed you an' knew you was raised in Boston, an'
had lived in New York, I jest thought you no account for comin' to this
jumpin'-off place. Why did you come to Kansas, anyway, and what did you
reckon upon doin'? I guess you ain't goin' to teach school always."

The young man flushed under the frankness of the girl's gaze and
question, and what appeared like contempt in her opinion of him. Again
he became painfully conscious that there was a wide social difference
between Miss Conklin and himself. He had been accustomed to more
reticence, and such direct questioning seemed impertinent. But he was so
completely under the spell of her beauty, that he answered with scarcely